It seems my entries are a bit widely spaced these days. Forgive, por favor. I have finally returned to the academic swing o' things and am busier than AIG's PR drones.

In past posts the religious origin of Dunedin was mentioned, as well as the prominence of churches in local architecture. With the profusion of local churches and the lack of multi-story buildings most skylines are dominated by a steeple of some sort or flavor. Yet actual attendance is minimal and many only stand for the tourist trade, by all appearances. During a recent stop in Christchurch I went to the cathedral, appropriately grand for a town named thusly, and watched people walk their dogs through the building while a band set up for a performance. The only staffed area of the building was the visitor center/gift shop.

Not that this bothers me unduly, but after being raised in a town with lots of highly utilized churches, seeing the use these grand old brickpiles receive here is disconcerting. The locals seem to follow the British mold in things religious: As long as the buildings are around and a man in a funny dress can officiate at hospital openings, all is well. Perhaps they are right. I haven't seen the Kiwis involved in holy wars with anyone besides underhanded Aussies.

A few of the deity dwellings in my immediate environs:

Some of our congregations are amazingly specialized. I would like to meet Chris. I share his sense of self.


Others have a breadth which is impressive in its sheer audacity. I'm not sure if this group worships the Chinese or serves Chinese of any faith. Either way, they have a demographic to make any cable exec's tie curl.


Baptist Sunday School now serving as a travel agency. One day when I wandered past they had a big sign in the window advertising the WORLD'S FIRST ALL-GAY CRUISE LINE!!!! Bet Jimmy Swaggart is involved somehow.


The Fortune Theatre. This beautiful old church is now a very cosy performance space right off the main tourist drag. I went to see a show there called Hot Pink Bits, a one-woman show about the humorous side of the sex industry. She actually seemed a bit nervous about doing her show in a former church, but it did not stop her from admiring my 'porn voice' and inviting me to the stage to act out a (fully clothed) bad '70's porn film. Given that I haven't seen my wife in months and I was standing in profile relative to the audience I found myself thinking more intensely about baseball than in any other time of my adult life.


Academy Cinema. Local art-house cinema in a restored church. Shows Blue Mouse/Tower Theatre fare but you don't need to carry a stick to kill the rats with. I am hoping they will do Rocky Horror. In a church. Tres cool.

Finally we come to the Monkey Bar. First you have the former church named after the Scopes Monkey Trial (well, likely not, but one can hope, eh?). Then you have the bar in the foyer and the dance floor in the chapel. Then the DJ booth in the vestry. But the coup de main, the final nail in the coffin, the reason this is the only godawful drum n bass college meat market nightclub I will venture into, is the Jagermeister banner hanging above the altar as an object of veneration. If by veneration you mean mixing the sacrament with Red Bull and Chicken Chips until you hurl all over the loo. High culture indeed.

Thanks for taking our tour! Please don't forget to drop your headphones in the recycling bin by the door and pick up something for the folks back home at the Gift Shop. And Ma'am? Your dog is widdling on the altarpiece.